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PROLOGUE

As sure as water seeks its own level, the inevitable doom will one day pay us all a visit. Most of my life I've feared that moment and foolishly wondered about the face of a fictitious God. It haunted me. It damaged me. Most of all, it hindered me. Who knows—without that mystical voodoo grip I could have been something truly great. I awoke from my mental slumber around 1985 and declared war on everyone and everything—not at the hands of any form of defeat, but instead in the bosom of objective reality.

I spent the prime of my life devouring hateful scrolls hand-picked by King James and company. I sought refuge in Arthur C. Clarke, Philip K. Dick, Miles Davis, and L. Ron Hubbard's mumbo jumbo. But over the years I never forgot the commanding words of Ayn Rand and her earth-shattering way of thinking. Like any soldier of war I was eager to swing my sword for this newfound light, but the real question was, who in America would take me seriously? Me, a child of mixed races, a Jr. Raiders MVP, a C-student, at best, and a devout pupil of "Gilligan's Island." Rand, this intellectually vicious woman who hailed from Russia, shook the Atlas of my feeble mind. Her gut-wrenching attacks and overpowering logic left me crippled and released at the same time.

I wanted to tell the world— I needed someone to hear me out—but whores, hot wings, and cocaine kept postponing my revolution. I slipped hints of her philosophy into the vehicles I had produced for myself, but it wasn't until the year 2000, at a radio station in New York City, that I really tried to regurgitate her legacy.

Upon entering the world of media, I was what I was and there was no denying it: a man of obscure views and a non-conformist. In a sense I was like Howard Roark in Rand's novel The Fountainhead: a visionary fighting a creative war against contrived, superficial standards. But nurtured on social hate, how could I publicly make a connection between Objectivism and the ogre that I had become? Why should I attempt to tie one to the other and risk scrutiny from those who have, over the decades, been enlightened by Rand's work?

Objectivism was complex and evolving, yet it was the simple, rational truth. Hate was a shallow and cheap emotion, yet one that greeted me in the world every day. Realizing that hatred avoids reason and often leads to violence, I was stumped. So after years of living, learning, and engaging in discussions with strangers, confidants, and natural enemies, I concluded that there are few parallels between the two. Objective Hate became my antidote.

To establish my definition of "Objective Hate," let me state first that my philosophy sees man's true nature as hateful, but does not condemn him in the sense of being evil. The fact that certain civilizations take pride in suicide practice negates all claims that man's prime nature is about survival by any means necessary; no, survival is merely his choice of will. To declare man's true nature evil would mean to be devoid of a vision of hope. To insist that there is no hope would be to leave no room for man to manifest. Through the process of assumption, perception, and intention, it's the latter—intention—that releases mankind from the stamp of being evil by nature. Murder is a vicious act, but to kill with no crutch of psychosis can also reflect hunger, fear, or even self-defense. Rage, obsession, and greed are conflicts of ideals, standards, or morals. I initially omitted the word "Objective" from my unveiling altogether, but my paralysis of hate could not be reached without the mental-massaging techniques of Objectivism.

But back to that radio station and the world of media. To aspiring rappers, groupies, vanity-driven whores, and disgruntled DJs, hosting a show on New York's Hot 97 radio station would be the ultimate job. To me it was merely an opportunity to promote myself and collect capital to finance my Star & Buc Wild projects. As it turned out, bubble-gum R&B singer Aaliyah would become my publicity ticket, catapulting me into a spotlight of infamy. When I first heard the news that she had died in a small plane crash, it was 5:03 in the morning and I was driving to work at Hot 97. I really didn't think much about it. Living through the crack wars of the '80s in uptown Manhattan had numbed me to the plight of people dying. Back then, if you weren't a part of my nucleus, I really didn't give a fuck how you caught it. The fact that Aaliyah was some half-cute singer adored by millions meant nothing to me. I was on the radio to promote Star & Buc Wild, at any expense. Some might think that this was the dawn of my Hate, but years before Aaliyah, my self-published magazine Around The Way Connections had been my actual launching pad. That morning, halfway through my radio show, it hit me: "Hell, I can't let this little fishie get away." I told my research team to go into the production room and dig up some plane-crash sound effects. I wanted to find out just who was paying attention to my grind.

After I ordered those now famous scream-and-crash sound effects to be played over and over again, I was honestly a little disappointed by the lack of mainstream media coverage I received. Sure, the Negroes were upset—they sat back, shuffling emails—but aren't they always upset about something? If it had been Puff Daddy on that plane I would have played that old Sammy Davis classic "Mr. Bojangles" and sprinkled gunshots in the background for his fool ass. This was my shot, and I wasn't going to miss it.

In the world of hip-hop it was big—the ultimate reality check—and prior to this stunt I had already been closing in on Howard Stern in the Arbitron ratings. This ratings shift hit the heart of the core-sales demo, the 18-to-34 year-olds. I was about to make history. Two hours after the show, Judy Ellis, General Manager of Emmis Communications, and Tracy Cloherty, Program Director of Hot 97, called me for a three-way telephone conversation. The dialogue was calm, but they expressed to me in no uncertain terms that people were very upset, and they had never gotten such a barrage of calls before. My reply was simply, "Okay." Ellis then asked, "Well, what should we do?" and I said, "What do you mean? It's not my radio station." They asked me if I'd apologize and I smiled, knowing that the fuse had already been lit. I said, "Sure. I have no problem with that." It was a quick conversation, without talks of suspension or anything of the kind. Afterward I went home, drank some Tang, and took my usual afternoon nap.

When I woke up, I found hundreds of messages on my voicemail, filled with knee-jerk emotional ramblings. My immediate thought was, "It's on and poppin'." This was the moment that defined me as the Original Hip-Hop Hater. No one's gossip columns, interviews, or cute little top-ten list had ever caused such a nationwide tremor in the arena of rap radio. Star & Buc Wild had arrived! I checked my voicemail every six minutes, listening for ABC, NBC, or CBS News to say, "Mr. Star, we would like to talk to you." But nothing, all day and night—just a whole lot of death threats and hip-hop nonsense.

The click-drag hags had an online petition going, which was doing the job that probably would have cost me $50,000 if I'd had to pay a publicist. Thank you, whoever started that thing! As always, the 'hood had a rumor going about me—I'd gotten pistol whipped, it went—but I had no time for their fantasy nigger shit. I had to get hold of a Hollywood producer to try and pull off some kind of film deal. But just one day after I got back from suspension and found the Jewish Defense League on my ass—down came the World Trade Center. My great transgression was cut short. Talk about a Negro having bad luck. The sobering lynch mob who'd wanted my head and who had become my independent campaign managers would forevermore be distracted.

HERE'S WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT OBJECTIVE HATE

Star, I want to commmend you on writing an amazing piece of literature and to let you know that it has opened up my eyes to a broad spectrum of things and now i look at the world from an entirely different perspective.
--Peter J. Occhipinti

In this easy-to-read manifesto, Star brings the worldview, language and wisdom heard on his radio program, but marries it with the kind of perspective and context that only a book allows. We always knew what Star stood far. Now, with Objective Hate we know much more about why he stands for it, and what he went through to be able to take that stand. That alone is worth the price of admission... more
--Cedric Muhammad

"Objective Hate" eloquently intertwines the worlds of human reason and emotion while awakening its' readers to the concept of objectivism. Mr. Torain has given readers a window into his life while laying down brick after brick of reason, logic and wisdom creating a solid and beautiful understanding of his unique philosophy.For those in search of the unknown frontiers of humanity, "Objective Hate" will hit you like a shot of Red Bull.Definitely worth the time and the money.
--Kris

My neck is still sore from all the positive nodding in acknowledgement and agreement from most of the points/arguments raised in Star's book.

While the philosophical thinking unveiled in the book are challenging (and murky), much of the points of the book will prove insightful and filled with wisdom. Stylistic writing and never biting, Star's book is quite a look.
--Teofilo

I can't remember the last time I picked up a book that forced me to read on and on. Honestly, the stuff movies are made of.
--Godfrey Gustave

"Objective Hate was an excellent read. Finally, we have all the pieces to the puzzle. Thanks for putting it out there."
--Mr Terzilla

The one thing that surprised and impressed me about Star's story are the periods of self-reflection.
--Danya Talton, Miami FL

I found Star's book quite fascinating, largely due to the fact that you do not need to be a Star fan to appreciate its contents. Star's book is more of a philosophy book than an autobiography. Many times while reading the book, I found myself saying, "Wow, that's so true, I never thought about it that way." After reading this book, the word "hate" takes on a whole new meaning.
--Ruba Monem

Those expecting the literature to start off as a slanderous tirade against past co-workers must have been disappointed.
--Listener

I just completed my first read of "Objective Hate." I intend on re-reading it again, as I'm sure I've missed some important points. I found your "prequel" to be entertaining, inspiring and very insightful.
--Sebastian Marquez

We miss you down here in Augusta. Mornings are not and will not ever be the same without you. I recently purchased your book. It was exciting, interesting, and riveting. I am going to have to read it again. Thank You STAR for writing this book. This is what the masses need.
--R. Caldwell

WOW!! Just read ur book!! FREAKIN AMAZING!! I still don't think ur a hater, u jus say things people think!! U speak ur mind and if that makes u a hater, I'm a HATER w/ a good heart :-) And thanks 4 my shout out in your book, I told my parents!!
-Lil Mo, The GodMother of HipHop/R&B

Star, I'm so moved by your literary work of art. You are quite the intellectual, scholar, historian, philosopher... and more... And great style! You relay/convey your thoughts engagingly, entertainingly, informatively and thought-provokingly. Some parts had me laughing, other parts I was sitting, reading and nodding my head in agreement, and a few times I was feeling you so intensely, I had to shout,"Yes, Yes!!"... I love the photos and your story goes from good to great to mind-blowing!... I am SO intensely and powerfully moved by your courage, your individuality and your manhood.
--Darlene Reeves, M.Ed., CUNY English Lecturer